Hello there, my fellow Young Justice aficionados! Happy Independence Day, I hope your day was not affected by any ice villains (Ha, see what I did there?) GO WATCH NATIONAL TREASURE! IT'S THE PERFECT PATRIOTIC MOVIE!

This fanfic is about the YJ Team with my own little sideki- *elbow* OW! I mean hero. Her name is Brooklyn, so for there to be absolutely ZERO confusion, this chapter is simply going to be her origin chapter. Don't get upset, the story is all outlined out, there'll be a ton of action, and I just gotta get it down on paper.

This is my first fanfic, so PLEASE BE GENTLE ON ME!

Summary: Brooklyn knew her life wasn't simple. She knew it'd always be complicated. She just never expected it to get this complicated.

Key: Italics mean thoughts, bold means bird speak, and bold italics mean translation.

PLEASE LEAVE REVIEWS, THEY KEEP BROOKE ALIVE!

Warning: None really, except for mild language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice, if I did, I'd fire our schedule guy. I also do not own Nancy Karam, Ziploc, Capri Sun, and Goldfish. BUT I do own Brooklyn Riyadh and her mother Pennsylvania Riyadh.

Chapter One

Birthday-Part I

Brooklyn blinked open her eyes, breathing in the sweet smell of kna-fi baking. She jumped out of bed, her whole tiny, short body quivering with excitement. Today's gonna be special, I just know it!

It was her tenth birthday.

She ran to the bathroom and rushed through her daily morning habits. She brushed her some-still baby, some grown-up ivory teeth, combed her long, ebony-black hair into a ponytail, and scrubbed her pale face with a mini-loofah. She hummed while prepping herself for the day. The Riyadh family, however small, was a singing family.

Batting her eyes in front of the mirror, she leaned over the sink, balancing her legs off the floor while her rib cage kept her from tilting back, and stared at her weird oblong blue-green eyes. If you looked very closely, you could see a small ringlet of gold encircling each of her inky pupils. She smiled when she spotted it. "Luck of the Irish!" she sang in a squeaky Irish accent, and giggled. Her mother had said, that, even though Brooklyn was just half Mexican and half Phoenician (Middle Eastern minority), somewhere in the family tree a drop of Irish must have sneaked in, resulting in Brooklyn's genetically impossible blue-green eyes. She called the golden ringlets the "Luck of the Irish!"

"Brooklyn!" she heard her mom call. "I think you'd better hurry if you want some kna-fi, Bark and Kjeld are about to eat them all."

Brooklyn gasped as she ran back to room to yank on some jeans and a t-shirt.

Bark and Kjeld were two neighborhood pigeons that strutted back and forth in front of their kitchen window every morning. They never cooed or made any sort of noises, they simply walked up and down the sidewalk. Her mom always threw a little bit of breakfast for them and after a while, Brooklyn decided they needed names.

Bark was a pale brown pigeon, so Pennsylvania thought Bark would be the perfect name for him.

Brooklyn liked the name Kjeld, and since her mom had picked the first name, she was allowed to pick the second.

Pennsylvania Riyadh scattered some of the sweet syrupy Middle Eastern pastry out on to the New York sidewalk. Kjeld and Bark fought over the biggest piece, fluttering crumbs all over the place when they flapped their wings. Pennsylvania looked back into the small kitchen to see if her daughter had arrived, and, after seeing that she hadn't, bent her head out the window and twittered lightly to the two pigeons. "General Uair, how's King Avito doing? Is there any news to report?

General Uair (Kjeld) flew to the window and chirped softly to Pennsylvania. "King Avito has gotten worse, and is near joining his ancestors. The Prince Naj is preparing to take the throne, and there is no sign of any resistance or rebellion. It seems there will be a quiet transition for the crown this time, but we are keeping a close eye, Princess.

Pennsylvania nodded, her eyes dark and serious, "Good. Make sure it stays that way, Uair. We don't want another Drak incident."

"Yes, Princess." Uair nodded, his stance respectful and resolute.

Pennsylvania ducked in, hearing her daughter's singing coming closer to the kitchen. "Good day, General Uair. Thank you for your report."

Uair nodded without a single sound. He flew back to the ground and continued to peck mindlessly with Lieutenant Jok (Bark).

"Happy birthday, habibi." said Pennsylvania, grinning and engulfing Brooklyn in a bear hug.

"Thanks, Mom. Shrookran allal kna-fi. Thank you for the kna-fi." Brooklyn's thanks came out muffled, but her mother heard the words perfectly.

"Teekram ayn-ek. Your welcome." Her mother kissed her cheek. "Now, are you going to turn on some music for us?"

Brooklyn grinned, her blue-green eyes sparkling. "I get to pick the music today, right?"

"No duh, little tase. Stubborn one. I wouldn't have asked you to turn on the music unless you were going to pick today." Pennsylvania chuckled.

Brooklyn fingered through their CDs. They had a lot of discs, mostly classical music, but there were a few that were a bit special. There was Nancy Karam, an Arabic singer whose voice was amazingly beautiful and underappreciated, a couple of epic soundtracks, piano ensembles, at least three tracks for belly dancing, and Brooklyn's favorite: Spanish and flamenco guitar. Her "Luck of the Irish!" glowed as she put in a CD and deep, rich guitar began to play. She stood at the stereo for a moment, letting the music embed her. She shivered, as though someone had put ice on her shoulders. Some music was just pure power.

She joined her mother at the table and together they did the Sign of the Cross, thanking God for the meal, before eating the sticky sweet kna-fi.

Brooklyn was halfway through her plate and had paused to drink some water when her mom exclaimed, "Shoot, 7: 16! You'll be late for school!"

Brooklyn immediately abandoned her breakfast and ran to collect her backpack. Pennsylvania nimbly made a jelly sandwich and threw some Goldfish crackers into a Ziploc bag. Adding a Capri Sun, she placed them all in a Walgreens sack and tied it up before Brooklyn returned. Brooklyn wasn't surprised; her mother had worked at a restaurant her whole life. Being quick-fingered was part of the job.

"Mom, remember, gymnastics after school!" Brooklyn reminded as her mother pushed her out the door.

Pennsylvania smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Brooke." She gasped as she looked at her watch. "Now go! You're about to miss the bell."

"Got it!" Brooklyn sprang down the apartment stairs, her mile-long legs eating up the distance quickly, and her "Luck of the Irish!" shining along with the rest of her.

Pennsylvania smiled as she stared after her daughter. "Double-digits already. If only her legs would wait for the rest of her to catch up."

Suddenly a sharp twang pierced her stomach, sending her to the ground. "Oh, great," she winced, "not again, not again." She pulled out her cellphone and dialed one of her servers that worked at the restaurant. "Minnie? It's me, Penny." A greeting issued from Minnie as she questioned her boss as to why she was calling. "I-," she gasped, clutching her stomach. It hurt to speak. "I need you to close the restaurant for today; I think I might need to go the hospital." Minnie obviously was worried, and a long dialogue of concern was spoken over the phone before Pennsylvania intervened, "No, Minnie, I'll be fine. Thanks, though. See you soon." She hung up. Her breath was coming out in gasps and wheezes now. Still lying on her door, she got up from her foyer and stumbled into the apartment. Now the pain had left her stomach, and had traveled up to her ribs. What's happening? It's never done that before, she thought. It doesn't matter; I need to take the serum, now!

Black dots appeared at the edge of her vision, and Pennsylvania collapsed on the ground.

Well, peoples, I know this is a tidbit boring, BUT YOU HAVE TO READ IT! The story won't make sense if you don't, so thank you for putting up with it. I will try to have Birthday-Part II up before Friday. Till then, amigos!

Please review, it lets me know people are actually reading, and helps keep Brooklyn alive.